


feeling inadequate's always what's driving me

by Anonymous



Series: Corpsekkuno by Anon [15]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Agoraphobia, Anxiety, Boys Kissing, Depression, Eavesdropping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Guitarkkuno, M/M, Unstable Mental States
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Should I—I can go?” Corpse offered weakly.“Oh,” Sykkuno said softly. He sounded—disappointed? Like Corpse hadn’t just made his bad day even worse by eavesdropping and scaring him.“I don’t want to,” Corpse clarified quickly, “I just don’t want to—to make things worse for you?”At that Sykkuno smiled, smaller and more tentative than normal but there. “Corpse, I. I’m not sure you could do that if you tried.”
Relationships: Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Corpsekkuno by Anon [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054433
Comments: 34
Kudos: 677
Collections: anonymous





	feeling inadequate's always what's driving me

**Author's Note:**

> Themes include anxiety, depression, and agoraphobia. Content ships creators who are not romantically involved (or interested in becoming so). Fairly graphic kissing. Inaccurate depiction of Guitarkkuno and questionable setting.

He tried knocking, at first, but there was no response. 

Corpse hesitated for a moment, torn between leaving and just walking in like he’d been invited to do at any time. He pulled out his wallet, grabbing the key he had stored there, and twisted it around a few times. Took a deep breath and steeled himself to go in. 

Corpse had texted Sykkuno a warning, but hadn’t received a response. It had happened before, only that time when Corpse had knocked the door was opened. That was the same day Sykkuno had insisted on giving him a copy of the key so that Corpse could let himself in if he didn’t answer. It probably meant Sykkuno was taking a nap, in the shower or otherwise occupied. He wasn’t really the type to be glued to his phone, so he occasionally went hours without responding to people, and Corpse had only messaged him about an hour ago, just before he left his place. 

Corpse entered hesitantly and closed the door behind him, re-locking it. The entryway was dark, and Corpse slowly moved towards the living room lit by a window. He should call out to let Sykkuno know that he was here, but he didn’t feel able to. Everything was slow today. His mind was clouded by pain and negativity. 

He heard a noise coming from down the hall, and went through the living room slowly. It sounded like a guitar. Was Sykkuno practicing—?

The playing wasn’t bad. Corpse stopped in the hallway just outside his bedroom, the door only half open, and leaned against the wall, eyes falling shut as he listened to the soothing sound. 

Sykkuno really seemed to like Studio Ghibli songs. He was good, as well, on tempo as far as Corpse could tell. 

Still, he was a new player, having only actually gotten the guitar a few weeks ago, and he fumbled eventually. 

“Oh poop,” Sykkuno muttered, sounding genuinely frustrated in a way Corpse rarely heard. There was a shuffling noise, and then Sykkuno let out a long, whooshing breath. Corpse could imagine the hand he probably had pressed to his chest, too. It was cute, how he tried to calm down and center himself. 

Sykkuno didn't like to share his playing unless he was confident he could do well on a song. He had mentioned to Jack once, while Corpse was lurking in the discord call after a game of Valorant, that if he could play it ten times in a row without messing up, he felt more comfortable trying it out on stream. It helped account for his nerves and the inevitable shaking, even though he still usually couldn’t manage to get through it in front of an audience. 

A frisson of guilt was simmering in Corpse’s chest at the thought, but just as he went to announce himself Sykkuno began to strum another song. One he was infinitely familiar with. _His_ song. 

In a strange way this was an opening. Corpse could announce himself so easily—he could just start singing when the time came. Maybe Sykkuno wouldn’t be too mad at him for eavesdropping, if he did that. 

Plan set, he waited for his moment, but just as the lyrics were set to start Sykkuno muttered, “yeah.”

He wasn’t going to—

 _Was he_?

“Hey, ‘cause I can’t do shit right, I can’t learn my lesson. I can’t do shit right, take antidepressants.”

Sykkuno wasn’t rapping, he was _singing_ , backed by his own playing on the acoustic guitar. Unlike the last song he didn’t hesitate or stumble over any of the notes, like he has played it before. Many times, even. The vocal arrangement didn’t sound like it was off the top of his head, either, still relatively in the beat that Corpse sang it, but more melodic. 

The first time Corpse got to hear Sykkuno curse, and it was his song. If Corpse had ever imagined this moment, he had done so expecting Sykkuno to replace or skip the curse words entirely. Instead he sang the lyrics as they were written. Holy shit, Corpse really shouldn’t be hearing this. 

On the other hand, he couldn’t stop listening now. He was in too deep, his heart beating fast, fingers and lips trembling. He wanted—he needed—Sykkuno sounded so—

“And they always askin' questions 'bout my face, can't relate. Fucking caught my own reflection, broke a mirror the other day.” 

Sykkuno let out a little laugh, self depreciation. Wait—he better not actually be _relating_ to this—he was one of the most beautiful men Corpse knew. But then, Corpse already knew he didn’t think highly of his appearance. He’d straight up said he hated looking at himself on multiple occasions. 

Sykkuno’s voice… honestly, it wasn’t the best. It occasionally cracked when he pitched it higher, and wavered when he held a note. But it was raw, and sounded so _honest_. Corpse had never expected to hear him sing at all, _especially_ not one of his songs, so it was definitely special. Precious, even. 

“I’m not okay,” sang Sykkuno softly, and with each iteration it grew louder, until it sounded so heart wrenchingly genuine that Corpse thought he might start crying. Sykkuno _sounded_ like he wasn’t okay. Like he knew exactly what Corpse had meant when he wrote the song—like he was going through it himself.

All this time, coming to him, seeking comfort, and Corpse hadn’t noticed it. Sykkuno’s own toxic feelings reflected his, and he hadn’t _seen_. 

What kind of fucking friend was he?

Corpse stepped into the doorway. He had to look at Sykkuno, to see what he was hearing in his voice. 

Sykkuno was sitting cross-legged on his bed, guitar balanced on navy joggers. His head was down, bangs falling into the half-lidded eyes focused intently on his fingers. He didn’t look anguished, not in the way he sounded, but there was nothing about him that read happiness either. Really, physically, he was indecipherable to Corpse, despite the pain he was carrying so obviously in his voice. 

Just how alike were they? Just how good was Sykkuno at masking his problems? Corpse already knew he was king at avoiding uncomfortable topics, but he tended to be so open with his expressions that seeing the lack of emotion was startling. 

“What's the point? I’m not okay.” And again he sounded soft, almost desolate, and then he picked back up, almost desperate as he demanded, “What’s the point?! I’m not okay!”

Sykkuno didn’t say the last line. He finished off the final notes, eyes intent on his own fingers, lips pressed tight, jaw clenched. 

Fuck. This was the man that he came to on his worst days. That supported him when he felt like reality was crumbling around him, steady and constant and kind.

A man with problems of his own. 

The last note lingered in the air. Sykkuno sighed deeply. 

“Difficult, huh?” He said to himself after a long moment, and smiled without an ounce of happiness. 

“Sy,” Corpse murmured. Sykkuno jolted, looking up like a deer caught in the headlights. His hands started to drop the guitar before his reflexes kicked in, breath catching in his throat at the same time. 

“U… um…” Sykkuno’s eyes tracked down to the key in his hand. The way he was leaning against the doorframe. “You didn’t—hear that, right?”

Corpse didn’t say anything. Sykkuno clearly read the answer on his face. He went a shade paler, even as he curled into himself a bit. “Sorry, I—I didn’t, um—I didn’t know you were going to be. Coming over. Oh God.”

Aside from his fingers he’d been relatively still as he played, but now he was trembling, breaths coming out a bit too quick. Like he was panicking, like _Corpse_ has caused him to panic. 

Shit, he was an idiot. Corpse should have announced himself—he shouldn’t have come at all—

“Sorry,” he choked out. “Shit. I didn’t mean to—are you—?”

 _I’m not okay_ , echoed through Corpse’s head, and he swallowed around the question. Sykkuno slowly uncrossed his legs, eyes darting up to meet his, and whatever expression Corpse was wearing made Sykluno’s soften, a bit. He still looked caught out, but there was concern there, now, too. 

He set the guitar gently on the bed next to him and stood, eyes darting between Corpse’s. “Are _you_?” He returned, easily filling in what Corpse might have asked, turning around the question as he was wont to do. 

Corpse tried to smile in the face of his concern, but it was empty. He was shaken. Why did Sykkuno seem more concerned about him the second he noticed that Corpse was in distress, when Corpse had just _caused_ Sykkuno’s? It didn’t make sense. He should be kicking Corpse out—demanding back the key—asking what he was doing here, at least. 

“I’m. No.”

Sykkuno hummed. He looked at the ground, licked his lips, and met Corpse’s eyes again. “Yeah, I’m. Not having a great day, either.”

The air wooshed from Corpse’s lungs. He had been afraid, for a moment—that Sykkuno didn’t trust him, that he would pretend nothing was wrong when it obviously _was_ , that—Corpse didn’t know. But he knew that something warm was unfurling inside of him at the admittance. 

Corpse had never actually heard Sykkuno say he was having a bad day before. And of course, he didn’t _want_ him to have bad days—but he knew that they existed for the other man. The way Sykkuno was sometimes a bit shorter with his chat than usual. The way he was more self-depreciating, quick to laugh but just as quick to retreat into himself. The forced smile he sometimes wore. The days he made the camera two-thirds its normal size. 

“Should I—I can go?” Corpse offered weakly. 

“Oh,” Sykkuno said softly. He sounded—disappointed? Like Corpse hadn’t just made his bad day even worse by eavesdropping and scaring him. 

“I don’t want to,” Corpse clarified quickly, “I just don’t want to—to make things worse for you?”

At that Sykkuno smiled, smaller and more tentative than normal but there. “Corpse, I. I’m not sure you could do that if you tried.”

Corpse blinked. He definitely _could_ —he would never want to, though. And by the softness in Sykkuno’s gaze, he knew at least that much. Otherwise, Corpse mused, the man wouldn’t have trusted him enough to admit his vulnerability in the first place. 

“Alright, then can I—help?”

Sykkuno hummed, some of the tension in his shoulders loosening. His fingers were picking at his pants in a nervous little fidget, but Corpse was messing with his rings anxiously, so he had no room to talk. 

“We can do what we normally do, when you come over?”

Normally they just sat together, sometimes in silence, with music, or with an anime playing. Usually with their legs and arms pressed together, close enough to be comfortable but not overly physical because they—or Corpse, at least—were afraid to push things too far. Asking for Sykkuno to hug him, when he was always so tense the first few minutes that they sat flush, would feel too much like taking advantage of someone who wouldn’t say no. 

“Okay,” Corpse agreed softly. “In the living room, or?”

Sykkuno glanced down at his bed, at the guitar sitting there, and flushed a bit. He looked—Corpse didn’t know. 

“If you want,” he said softly. 

What was the other option? Corpse wondered, but didn’t ask. Surely Sykkuno wouldn’t actually want him anywhere near his bed?

“Where do _you_ want to be?” He asked. 

Sykkuno blinked at him, looking a bit surprised, then almost guilty. Or shy? Embarrassed, definitely. 

“I—have a hard time leaving my room, sometimes, on. On days like today,” he admitted slowly, like he was embarrassed. Like he hadn’t just been singing Corpse’s song _about agoraphobia_. “It’s stupid—I live alone now, so it’s not like there’s anyone to run into—”

“It’s not,” Corpse said firmly, catching and holding Sykkuno’s gaze when it darted back to his face in surprise. “Sykkuno, you know I—what were you just singing?” He laughed softly, unsure how to convey his meaning clearly. That Sykkuno’s feelings were valid. That he could ask for almost anything, right now, and Corpse would try to give it to him. 

Sykkuno flushed, hand going up to rub at the back of his neck, but he didn’t look away. “I think it’s—probably different?”

“Is it?” Corpse asked, as patiently as he could. “Does it feel like you have to force yourself out? Like you’re exposed when you leave the room, even though you logically know it’s your home and you’re safe here?”

“I—“ Sykkuno brushed the hair out of his eyes and licked his lips, gaze darting away again. “It… yeah. But would _you_ be—comfortable—? I mean, I don’t have a TV or anything in here, and there’s really no where to sit except my bed—”

“Yeah,” Corpse interrupted, knowing how long Sykkuno could babble when he got nervous. “I’m fine with it, Sy. I’m easy to get into bed.”

Sykkuno startled, looking at him with wide eyes, before a genuine smile bloomed on his face for the first time Corpse had seen that day and he laughed. His hand covered his mouth, and it didn’t last long, but it still left Corpse with a feeling of accomplishment. “That’s, uh. I mean, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Corpse gave him a droll look, though a lazy smile was still pulling at his own mouth. “Glad to meet your approval, then,” he teased lightly. 

Sykkuno lowered his hand, smile softening. “You don’t need my approval, Corpse, but you’ve always got it anyway.”

Corpse felt his cheeks heat up a bit at the implied praise, and Sykkuno turned away from his fluster, grabbing the guitar and moving to set it on the stand in the corner. He grabbed a half-empty water bottle from his night stand and took a drink, before angling a glance at Corpse. 

“Are you thirsty—?”

A little. But the kitchen was outside, and Sykkuno had just said...

“I’m fine, Sykkuno.”

Sykkuno made a little humming sound, and glanced back at the bed. “There’s no headboard, but I should have enough pillows to use as backrests,” Sykkuno offered softly. It was true, he had three pillows stacked against the wall, and one flat on the bed, which Corpse assumed he actually used to sleep on. He also had multiple blankets folded down at the bottom of the bed.

“How many of these do you use when you sleep?” Corpse asked curiously, fingering the edge of a soft one. 

“Depends,” Sykkuno said. “Sometimes I don’t want to run the heat, so I kinda burrow into all of them, like a naked mole rat.”

Corpse snorted, shooting a look at Sykkuno as he carefully placed the pillows before shyly peeking back at him. 

“Um, inside or—?”

“By the wall, if it’s okay,” Corpse said, and Sykkuno looked a bit surprised but nodded quickly. It left Corpse with no easy escape route, but that was kind of the point. He highly doubted he would want to escape being caught between Sykkuno and a wall, regardless. He had been around him on enough days like this to know his presence was always more of a comfort than a stressor. 

“Okay,” Sykkuno stepped back, letting him climb over and settle into place. “Do you want—?” He held up a blanket in offering, eyes wide and curious, and Corpse nodded even though he wasn’t cold at all. 

Sykkuno hummed, went to hand it to him, then pulled it back quickly and brought it to his face. “Sorry,” he said as he lowered it, “I just wanted to make sure it didn’t smell bad,” he laughed awkwardly. “I mean, I washed everything last week! But, um.”

“Sy, it’s fine,” Corpse said, and then patted the space next to him, because it looked like Sykkuno was contemplating the pros and cons of standing there awkwardly all day. The other man looked almost relieved at the gesture and let out a little breath, taking a seat next to him and throwing the blanket lightly over both of their legs.

“Okay?” He asked, like he was afraid Corpse wouldn’t want to share. They were essentially going to be cuddling, at this rate, and Corpse didn’t mind that thought at all. It sounded pretty nice. Physicality helped ground him when he was in this state.

“I have music,” Sykkuno offered after a moment, shifting a bit closer, until their legs were touching. He was a line of heat against Corpse’s side, and he shivered involuntarily, which made Sykkuno pull back quickly. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to invade your—umm…”

“Sykkuno,” Corpse deadpanned, turning to meet the other man’s gaze, “you could literally be in my lap and not be too close. It’s fine.”

Sykkuno blinked at him, surprise evident. His cheeks went a bit pink, and he looked a little dubious, but he still pressed closer, until Corpse was crowded between him and the wall. Then he glanced up, nervous, and licked his lips, and the connotations of what they were doing momentarily flipped in Corpse’s mind before he forced his brain to shut up and ignored that train of thought. 

“This okay?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Corpse agreed, and this time the chill seemed to run through Sykkuno. The other man blinked at him for a moment from close up, before clearing his throat and turning to look at his hands. 

“Um—what type of music are you in the mood for?”

Corpse hummed, glancing down to find Sykkuno opening Spotify on his phone. He reached over, touching Sykkuno’s hand lightly as he swiped down to the playlists. He selected ‘Your Top Songs of 2020’ without much thought.

The first song on the playlist was ‘dreamy night’ by LilyPichu. He went to click the play button, just as his eyes darted down to the one below it and hesitated. 

“Oh,” he said softly. 

‘Never Satisfied’ by CORPSE stared back at him. 

Sykkuno cleared his throat, touching his hand gently. He was staring at the song list when Corpse looked at him, embarrassment obvious. 

“I thought you didn’t like this type of music,” Corpse said, when he finally found his voice. 

“I, uh. Don’t, usually. I told you I liked yours, though, Corpse.” 

Corpse hesitated, then hit shuffle play. He thumbed down the playlist, and Corpse watched his other songs appear, amidst the most eclectic selection he’d ever seen. Not that he usually went around looking at playlists, but Sykkuno’s most listened to songs spanned from piano pieces to lo-fi to anime openings to classic rock to pop—on and on it went. No clear genre preference to be found, though there was no EDM or metal. 

“Interesting,” Corpse murmured, eyes lingering on ‘E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE’ and ‘Miss YOU!’ 

He saw a few artists he never would have expected Sykkuno to listen to, and smiled softly at that. 

“Am I being judged right now?” Sykkuno asked softly, voice close enough to Corpse’s ear that it was a little startling. He turned to meet his gaze, smirking at the doleful look Sykkuno was sporting. 

“You’ve got good taste,” Corpse reassured, though he hardly recognized everything, and the appearance of ‘I Did Something Bad’ by Taylor Swift did make him a bit dubious. 

Sykkuno glanced at the phone, and then him, and his eyebrows went up a little as he smiled a bit. “I mean…” he drawled, nudging Corpse’s shoulder with his own. “Duh.”

Corpse laughed, surprised, and Sykkuno’s smile brightened at his reaction. He melted into him a little more, and let out a little sigh. 

“I really like your laugh,” he admitted to Corpse softly. He had said this to his chat, before—Corpse had been tagged in the clip enough times to know that much—but it was different like this. It sounded like some sort of intimate confession. 

“I love yours, Sy,” he responded softly. “You laugh with your entire body. It’s nice to see.”

Sykkuno’s hand twitched against his, both still settled lightly on the phone. He had the audacity to look surprised, when Corpse met his eyes again. 

“I…”

Sykkuno was blushing. Then something in his face shifted, and he said, “You think you can compete with how much I like your laugh? I don’t just like it, Corpse. I don’t just love it. I—I _adore_ it.”

Corpse grinned. He _liked_ when Sykkuno got competitive. “I _yearn_ for your laugh,” he teased. 

“I’m—besotted with yours,” Sykkuno shot back. “Infatuated. Head over heels. Um. J-j'en suis amoureux.”

Corpse laughed. “You’re switching languages, _cheater_. What does that even mean?”

“Ah,” Sykkuno flustered. “I-I don’t actually speak French, I’m pretty sure it’s ’I love it.’ Or, I mean I was more saying ‘I’m in love with it’? I—you, you get what I mean.”

“In love with my laugh?” Corpse said teasingly. “Are you flirting with me?”

Sykkuno laughed, and something in Corpse’s stomach dropped a bit at the sound in this context. But then Sykkuno said, “obviously,” and that something started to flutter instead. He met Sykkuno’s eyes as they went wide and panicked. “Joke, joke, that was a—“

“So you don’t want to make out?” Corpse blurted, before Sykkuno could well and truly start freaking out. 

“Um?” Sykkuno squeaked. He wasn’t pulled back, which Corpse found interesting. Surprising, too. Just how comfortable was Sykkuno with him, that his flirting didn’t scare him off? That he admitted he was also flirting, when he was the first to say he knew nothing about this type of thing. 

Corpse leaned closer, curious as to just how far he could push this. He touched Sykkuno’s cheek gently, cupped it like something precious, because he was. He kind of _wanted to_ kiss him, but he’d been intentionally not thinking of that, and now Sykkuno was pressed close to him of his own accord, complimenting him, licking his lips too fucking often—

“I don’t—know how to—“ Sykkuno breathed out suddenly, face heating up under Corpse’s hand. 

“Hmmm?” Corpse hummed. 

“I’ve never—um—”

Corpse blinked. Never made out, or never _kissed?_

“Do you want to?” He asked, surprised by the way Sykkuno had phrased it. By the way he wasn’t pulling back, but sinking into Corpse’s hand instead.

“I would,” Sykkuno admitted, very softly. “If it was you.”

Corpse felt his heart stop for a moment, before beating twice, _hard._ His face flushed, his hands started to shake, his eyes widened. 

Oh. 

_Oh._

No way, right? Sykkuno couldn't _actually_ want _him._

But Corpse really fucking wanted to lean forward and just _take._ To wreck this precious, beautiful man.

“If you actually want to,” Corpse blurted, voice wavering a bit, nervous and tense and disbelieving, “kiss me. I’ll kiss back.”

Sykkuno looked between his eyes. Leaned closer, the hand that wasn’t on Corpse’s going up to gently cup over his shoulder. 

“Would that really be okay?”

“Sy,” Corpse said, almost desperately, and Sykkuno blinked and pressed forward. Their lips crashed together, the pressure a bit too much. Corpse weaved a hand through Sykkuno’s hair, carefully gentling the movement and helping adjust his angle. 

It settled into something more pleasant very quickly. A warm, gentle pressure connecting them. 

Sykkuno pulled back after a long moment, lashes fluttering open, blinking at Corpse in surprise. 

“That was nice,” he whispered. 

“Yeah,” Corpse breathed. “Nice.”

Sykkuno kissed him again, movements quick and impulsive. He pulled back quicker, this time, as if unsure of his welcome, and Corpse’s hand caught his collar to reel him back in. 

Sykkuno made a little humming sound of surprise, and then his hand was buried in curls, tongue swiping almost curiously over Corpse’s lower lip. Corpse made a soft, surprised noise, but quickly opened up. This was the point where it was probably going too far for friends, but Corpse really didn’t give a shit. 

The intimacy was intense, switching from sweet to sensual depending on the moment. It soothed a part of Corpse’s mind that had been rampant all day, ready and eager to rip apart and destroy everything it saw.

Sykkuno’s tongue was curious and a bit quick, eager to explore all sectors of Corpse’s mouth. Corpse brushed it with his own, slowing the exploration down and making it deeper in a different way. Sykkuno was a quick learner, but he did need to breathe eventually. He curiously sucked at Corpse’s tongue before pulling back.

Corpse shivered, moaning softly as they parted, and Sykkuno blinked at him slowly.

“Sorry—did I—was that wrong?”

“No,” Corpse rasped, “Definitely not.” 

Sykkuno’s mouth was agape as he tried to catch his breath. He reached out and ran a thumb over Corpse’s lower lip lightly. Pressed, just a bit.

“You—have really nice lips,” he said.

Corpse chuckled. The comment could be completely innocent, or the exact opposite. “So do you,” he said, and Sykkuno smiled at him shyly.

“Is it okay to—?”

“Yes,” Corpse interrupted, probably too eager— _definitely_ too eager—”Anything.”

Sykkuno’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he smiled like he couldn’t believe Corpse, and they were kissing again. Sykkuno’s hand got caught on one of his curls, pulling a bit, and Corpse moaned, nipping at Sykkuno’s lip in a gentle retaliation. Sykkuno gasped against his mouth at the sting of it, pulled back a bit. 

“I—do that again?” he requested softly, and heat shot up Corpse’s spine.

This was getting a little dangerous.

“Okay,” he whispered regardless, and did. Sykkuno made another little noise into his mouth, and Corpse swallowed it. Then he was tugging at slim hips, trying to get more contact, and Sykkuno obliged. He slung a leg over Corpse and straddled him, hand tugging at wild curls to re-angle his head.

“Shit,” Corpse breathed the next time they parted, trying to get himself under some modicum of control. It was hard, though, when Sykkuno was a hot pressure on top of him, eyes half-lidded and hot, mouth already swelling under the unfamiliar abuse. It was hard, when Sykkuno swayed forward almost immediately again, and breathed, “More?”

“Sy,” he groaned, as the hand in his hair tightened a bit, before releasing and trailing down to the back of his neck. “God, I…”

“Am I doing it wrong? I’ll move, I—” but Corpse’s hands moved to grip his hips, holding him in place. Dark eyes met and held. The air was hot and static between them. Corpse sucked in his bottom lip like he was chasing the taste of Sykkuno, even as one of his hands released its hold and moved up to gently brush away a piece of hair that was falling into Sykkuno’s eyes. 

Sykkuno melted at the gesture, flushing even as he gave Corpse a shy, sweet smile. Fingers rubbed small circles into the back of his neck, and for a moment Corpse imagined them moving, wrapping _around_ his throat. The thought brought a dangerous jolt of arousal—exceedingly dangerous, considering Sykkuno’s position on his lap. 

“Can I still…” Sykkuno asked softly, eyes doleful, like _he_ was the one being done some great favor here. 

It was the perfect time to stop this. The perfect point to keep from taking it too far. But Corpse was a selfish man, and he wanted badly. Even if it was just temporary. Just a single taste. 

“Please,” he breathed. Sykkuno made a soft noise at that, and then they were kissing again.

**Author's Note:**

> U-uh... I mean, I didn't... ummmmm... so yeah.


End file.
